Disclaimer: I don't own the copyright to the game Enzai and I don't make any money with it.

About the game: The young man Guys is sentenced to life in prison for a murder he didn't commit. In prison he fights for his freedom and your goal is to proof his innocence and get the true murderer captured.

I bought the Boys Love PC game "Enzai - Falsely Accused" a while back. To make it more interesting for me and to share it with others I decided to let YOU decide which way I should take with the decisions.
The decisions may seem to be insignificant to the story but they change the outcome to a great deal. Let's see which ending we will get for the first time. If the response is well I might continue it after we got the first ending.
You have one week to make your decision and I will write down the story to the choice that gets the most votes and post it here.

If this violates any rules I don't know of on gurochan or any law I will delete this immediately because I don't want to get into trouble. So please notify me of anything like that!

Those are the tags as I know of and there are probably many missing which I don't know of yet.
Tags: yaoi, rape, humiliation, bondage, toys, whipping, death (NO snuff)

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The weather's been ridiculously good all day, today. That's why everyone's been busying about all day. Dad went to work on a new mansion. Mom's working as a laundry woman for a lady in the neighborhood. My brother went off to his new job. However, I don't have any work.

Guys: “I'm bored.“

I don't have anything else to do but hang out with my friends. I'd do anything else, anything at all, as long as it got me some money.

Boy A: “I wonder if it's gonna rain.“

Suddenly, someone starts talking to me. It's one of those guys without parents or a home. When he looks at you, your whole world becomes cold and uncomfortable.

Boy B: “I bet it will, I bet it will.“

A dejected reply follows.

Guys: “The wind's picking up.“

It's an unpleasant wind that stings my skin. Yes, it really might rain today. The thought has barely faded and the first drops start falling.

Guys: “Shit!“

*We all start running. We head towards a nearby grocer.

Guys: “Whew...“

That was definitely a frantic moment. No sooner do we bustle into the shop, and it starts raining cats and dogs.

Guys: “Damn, look at that.“

We watch the rain falling outside. From time to time, there's a flash of lightning.

Guys: “Urgh.“

It's raining like it's the end of the world. Hard to believe it was so nice until a minute ago. Thunder rolls over the land. It's sounding like cannon fire.

Shopkeeper: “Oh my, such downpour.“

I notice the shopkeeper and one of his customers talking to each other.

Guys: “Hm...?“

One of the boys tugs my sleeve as I walk aimlessly through the store.

Boy B: “You know what to do when the rain lets up, right?“

I nod at his whisper. I know what to do, even if he doesn't say anything.

Shopkeeper: “Looks like it's stopping.“

The shopkeeper sounds like he's at ease. The thunder is sounding more distant now, and the rain is growing thinner. We assert our timing by exchanging glances. We take up positions so that it's easy for us to run, and so it's hard for people to keep an eye on us.

Customer: “Looks like it let up. Goodbye.“

The only customer in the shop opens the door, and bids the shopkeeper farewell. Now! I pocket a box of candy from the shelf next to me.

Shopkeeper: “Hey, you!“

Suddenly, the shopkeeper calls out.

Boy A: “Run for it!“

That's one of my friends. We dash out of the store. We make our escape by the once again sunlit alleys... At least, that was the plan.

Guys: “Whoa!“

For a moment, I feel as if my body is flying. The I notice the cobblestones rushing up towards me. A moment later, I am sprawling on the ground. Why did there have to be a loose stone here? Still, complaining won't help me. I can hear the shopkeeper's voice closing in. I get back on my feet and continue running.

Shopkeeper: “Come back here, you little devils!“

Guys: “Shit!“

What a persistent old man. And while I was lying on my face, I lost sight of my friends. My wet trousers cling to my legs as I go. My knee hurts like hell.

Shopkeeper: “It's always the same. I hate days like these.“

Rats, this geezer is fast. He might end up catching me. An empty coach. An empty house with a convenient hedge. Or an abandoned shed. Isn't there anywhere for me to hide? I see a glint out of the corner of my eye. I can't afford to turn my head and look. However, there's no doubting that the glint is something terrible.

Guys: “Ahh!“

The end comes abruptly. I run into a man standing in the dark alley, and hit the ground. With my back, this time.

Guys: “Owww!“

Detective: “Well now, what's all this then?“

He's got an unexpectedly thick voice.

Shopkeeper: “Well well, Mr. Detective. This young man has stolen from my shop. It happens a lot. What a drag.“

*The shopkeeper suddenly sounds far more pleasant. When I look up, I see a police officer I've seen around town sometimes. He's a nasty fellow who doesn't care about anything.

Detective: “Is that so... I will investigate this, and make sure he is punished. You can rest assured.“

*Is it me, or is he smirking? …I have a very bad feeling about this. It's not exactly a foreboding, but I'm overcome with a sense of dread... I am taken away to the police station.

Detective: “Right...“

He looks at me with a calm expression on his face.

Detective: “So, you're a shoplifter?“

Guys: “...Yeah.“

Shoplifting isn't a major offense. If I cooperate, I might get off the hook lightly.

Detective: “Your first time? No, I bet it wasn't, was it?“

Guys: “No... It wasn't the first time.“

It'd be better if I said it was the first time, but the shopkeeper said it happened a lot. Lying would be stupid. If I take care not to make him mad, he might let me go with a reprimand.

Detective: “Oh, you're being good, I see. Are you scheming something?“

Guys: “Not particularly...“

At that moment, there's a knock on the door. The detective opens it and exchanges a few words with the man outside. I don't know what they're talking about, but I catch the words ''corpse'' and ''knife''. Looks like there's been a murder.

Detective: “All right. I'll look into this.“

The detective grins as he says this.

Detective: “I see, so that's why you're being so cooperative.“

Guys: “…?“

Detective: “Looks like stealing isn't all you did.“

Guys: “Wuh...?“

What's going on? Suddenly the detective seems to be in a bad mood.

Detective: “Don't play games with me! You killed someone, didn't you!“

Guys: “What? …...What!?“

What's he talking about? Things are going too fast.

Detective: “We found the body you left.“

Guys: “What are you...?!“

Detective: “I'm asking you if you killed him!“

Guys: “Me? Who?“

Detective: “Hell, you tell me. Whatever, you'll recognize him when you see him. Come with me.“

The detective grabs me brusquely by the arm and drags me out of the room. Where's he taking me? These gloomy hallways aren't making me feel any better. If I could, I'd wrestle myself free and run away. But I am not strong enough.

Detective: “Here we are. In you go.“

He's taken me to a basement room. It's gloomy, and it stinks. There are strange shapes on the walls. What on earth did he bring me here for?

Detective: “Take a good look.“

He turns over a white cloth lying on a table. At the same time, I instinctively put my hand to my nose. It's the corpse of a man. His face is bashed in, and his entire body is mutilated. His eyes are open, cold and hard, staring at nothing.

Detective: “You killed him, didn't you?“

I can't take my eyes away from the corpse. Someone killed him? Who? Me? Did I kill him? Why? Why does he say...

Guys: “I... I don't know anything. I don't know him.“

*Looking at the corpse makes me feel sick. My vision grows dark, and my stomach tries to empty itself. My legs give way and I slump, but the detective harshly hauls me upright.

Detective: “Of course you know him! If you didn't know him, then why don't you look away! If you hadn't killed him, you wouldn't be able to look at him!“

Guys: “No! I don't know anything!“

I shake my head, but the detective has no intention of believing me. He speaks into my ear with a strangely calm, gently voice.

Detective: “You know, lying isn't in your best interest.“

Guys: “I really didn't kill him!“

When I shout at him, the inspector's facial expression changes. That expression... It reminds me of someone. It reminds me of a guy who lived next door to me long ago. He used to pick the wings off butterflies. He used to cut lizards to ribbons. He threw cats into the water. And in the end... He killed someone. That's the face he's making.

Detective: “A confession is in your own best interest. I don't like violence, but I can't have any mercy on stubborn ones like you.“

Guys: “No mercy...?“

Unknown man: “Gaaaahh!“

My words are drowned out by a scream.

Detective: “We've got a stubborn one down here. Want to look?“

His smirk scares me. What's going to happen to me? Is he going to torture me?

Guys: “N... No...“

The detective approaches me, and I back away against the wall. He looks down on me with his cold eyes. They're the eyes of a snake, looking at his prey.

Detective: “You understand, right? If you confess, I'll write favorably about you in my report. You're still a kid, so the judge will probably be merciful. If you're lucky, you can get off with self-defense. Your shoplifting helps.“

It is the whispering of the devil, but to me it sounds like the help of an angel.

Detective: “You killed him, didn't you?“

I nod. What happens after is a blur. Papers are being signed, and I end up in the defendant's seat. It is then that I realize the detective is a devil.

Judge: “...I sentence the defendant to a lifetime in prison.“

The harsh words of the judge bring me back to reality. Behind me, mom is weeping.

Guys: “...No... I didn't do it! It wasn't me!!“

I cry out. But nobody listens.

Lawyer: “Well, at least we managed to spare you the death penalty.“

*I hear a whisper in my ear, and the stench of alcohol fills my nose. When I look around, I see a man assigned to me by the police station. I think someone said he's my lawyer.

Guys: “It's true! I really didn't do it!“

Mother: “That's right. He could never kill anybody!“

Mom's voice resounds through the courtroom. All eyes turn to her. Their sympathetic eyes clearly conceal scorn. Mom keeps repeating it. But my dad and my brother take her by the shoulders, and leave the courtroom.

Lawyer: “See ya. Take care, now.“

The lawyer slaps me on the shoulder. A tear of vexation escapes me. No, not just vexation. There's also... Fear. Someone takes me by the arm. I am probably being taken to prison, now. As I leave the courtroom, I look around. I want to see my mom's face one last time. But what meets my eyes is not the face of my mom who is cheerful, kind, angry or afraid. The face I see is that of the detective, grinning maliciously. When I see that face, a deep hatred is born within me.

Guys: “Damn it! No matter what anyone believes, what I say is still the truth!“

My voice echoes through the courthouse. But there is nobody who pays it any heed. Only that lawyer turns his head. When he looks at me, it's as if he's looking at a complete stranger. He smiles a dark smile. Then he turns away and leaves without looking back. Then I realize that being in prison might be better after all. In a dark world, far away from my usual life... Behind me, the heavy metal door slams shut. When I look around, I can only see a small sliver of the light that I long for.

Guard A: “Come on, move it.“

The guard who picked up my papers roughly yanks my handcuffs.

Guard A: “This way. Hurry it up!”

We probably don't walk that far, but to me it seems to go on forever. At the end of the corridor, there is another heavy metal door. The guard stops.

Guard A: “In here. You're going to take a routine medical inspection.”

There is a wooden door here. The guard knocks on it. From inside, I can hear a voice.

Guard A: “I have a prisoner here from the last convoy. I got his papers right here.”

Official: “I see. Very well.”

Guard A: “Excuse me.”

The guard salutes, and departs. The man in this room glances at my face, and starts examining my papers.

Official: “Wow, you're a bad one.”

He scoffs at me, and then he looks up. He examines me. I feel uncomfortable, as if I'm being appraised.

Official: “You got into an ugly place, you little brat.”

The official approaches me, and takes hold of my chin.

Guys: “Wh, what do you want?”

I defiantly glare at him, but my voice is shaking?

Official: “You're eyeballing me. Are you trying to defy me?”

He takes hold of my collar, and pushes me against the wall.

Guys: “Ow!”

He gives me no time to recover, and kicks me, hard.

Guys: “Gah!”

Durer: “Listen carefully. In this place, my orders are absolute. Remember that if you go against Durer, you won't get off so easily! Got that!”

*Blood is welling up on my face. Why do I have to let myself get beaten up by this guy? For that matter, why did I even have to come here? Something hits my head.

Guys: “You're just...”

Durer: “...Oh?”

Guys: “You're just a guard! Stop acting like you're king!”

My words make the guard's face change in the blink of an eye.

Durer: “You've got balls, kid.”

He brings his face very close to mine. Blast... My red-hot anger is cooling off.

Durer: “I wonder how long you'll keep it up?”

With that, he throws me down on the floor.

Guys: “Hngg!!”

A pain so intense that I can't even utter a sound shoots through my head. He takes a firm grip on my hair, and grinds my head into the floor.

Guys: “Uggh...! It, it hurts! Stop!”

It feels as if my skin is being scraped off of my head. I flail around my arms and legs, trying to break free.

Durer: “Hmm? What was that?”

He increases the force he's using.

Guys: “Gaahhh! It hurts...!!”

The brick floor is starting to color red with blood. The dirt enters my wounds, which hurts even more. I struggle as if possessed, mad with the pain.

Durer: “Oh dear, you started bleeding. I feel sorry for you.”

While he says this, he continues grating my head on the floor.

Guys: “Please... Stop...”

The stones are now soaking with dark red blood.

Durer: “No, no, that's not how you do it. Hmm!?”

He pushes down my head as if it's a cleaning cloth. I don't have any strength left in my limbs. The hot pain is unbearable.

Guys: “Uhhh...”

I have no choice but to do as he wants.

Guys: “Stop... I beg you...”

*I finally manage to get the words out. The skin near my mouth has come loose, and speaking causes me terrible pain. Why did I forget never to oppose those who have power...

Durer: “...Geez, you sure took your time, you moron.”

*The pressure is taken from my head, and I'm left lying on the blood-stained floor. Unsteadily, I sit up, shakily pressing my clothes against my face to stop the bleeding.

Durer: “Hey, stand up.”

Whether it is because of fear, or because I don't have any strength left, I don't know. But my body won't rise from the floor.

Durer: “Be quick about it, you dipshit!”

Durer gives me another kick.

Guys: “Guhhh!”

And with me in this condition, too. However, I manage to pull myself upright, and wait for further instructions. Suddenly, Durer's hands are touching me. They are stroking down my body. The slightly unpleasant feeling is making my hair stand on end.

Guys: “!!!”

Durer: “What's wrong? Does that feel good?”

Durer is licking his lips, speaking in a dirty tone of voice.

Guys: “No w... No.”

Durer: “Good boy. You remember things. Looks like you don't have anything in your pockets or on your person.”

Guys: “...I don't have anything.”

Durer: “Really?”

Durer's hands stroke my chest. My eyebrows wrinkle as his palms rub across my nipples. It hurts.

Durer: “What's wrong?”

Durer smiles as he slides his hands down my flanks to my hips.

Durer: “What about your hip pockets?”

As he moves his hands to my back, Durer's body sticks close to mine. His breath, which reeks of tobacco, brushes against my neck. I involuntarily back away.

Durer: “Oh? Trying to run, are you? You must be hiding something after all.”

His hands massage my butt, and then smack it, lightly.

Guys: “N, no, I'm not!”

Durer: “Lies, all lies. If you aren't hiding something, then why are you trying to get away? Tell me that.”

He asks me a question I can't answer. His eyes are those of one who delights in cruelty towards weaker creatures.

Guys: “...W, well...”

I never knew how bad it feels to have someone touch your ass like this. His unpleasant hands pinch my bottom from time to time.

Guys: “...Urgh......”

Suddenly, he applies force. I'm starting to get scared. I don't have any experience with it, but my friends have made money by selling themselves out to pedophiles. So, I know what men can do with one another. However, I don't want to do those things.

Durer: “Oho. Are you hiding it in here?”

My reaction entices a smile on Durer's face. His eyes are sparkling with lust.

Durer: “The we'll have to take steps. Take off your pants, and put your hands on that desk.”

Guys: “N... No...”

I have to run, but where to? He'll catch me in no-time if I stay here. And even if I went outside, this is still a prison. I don't have anywhere to go. Durer smacks his lips in irritation, and brusquely grabs my arms.

Guys: “Ow...!”

Durer: “Oh my, it must be really important.”

Durer says this with a seemingly endless supply of composure.

Guys: “Guhh!”

Durer: “What's with that look? Eh?”

He grimaces, and casts me away. From his belt, he takes up his big baton.

Durer: “Hey kid, wasn't it enough for you, just now?”

Durer pushes his baton in my face. Above that smile of his, two cold eyes look at me. Together with the pain, the fear from before takes hold of me again.

Guys: “...A, all right.”

I quickly turn and put my hands on the desk.

Durer: “I told you to take 'em off.”

He pokes me with his baton again. I don't say a word, but start unbuttoning my trousers.

Durer: “Hey! Where's my answer!”

His voice thunders through the room.

Guys: “O... Okay...”

My hands are trembling. I can't get the button undone. Not wanting myself to be scared like this, I take a hold of my own hand.

Durer: “Get on with it!”

Durer gets impatient and reaches out for my trousers.

Guys: “Waah!”

He mercilessly pulls them down, as well as my underwear. It's not particularly cold in here, but the air against the bits that were covered before chills me.

Durer: “Hands on the desk. Move it.”

Guys: “...Very well.”

I put my hands on the desk. This forces me to bend over so much that my butt is jutting out. It's an embarrassing pose, as if I'm willfully tempting him. I blush, and bite on my lip out of embarrassment and frustration.

Durer: “Let's see if you really aren't hiding anything. Spread 'em.”

While he speaks, he parts my legs.

Guys: “Uuu......”

He pulls my cheeks apart so he can look all the way in. His hands feel sweaty and disgusting.

Durer: “At first glance, there's nothing here.”

Durer lets go. Finally I'm released from his grip.

Durer: “Still, you're a kid who committed murder. I better do a cavity search.”

Guys: “Ugh...!”

He pushes his finger inside. A groan escapes me at the unpleasant sensation.

Durer: “It's pretty narrow. I can't investigate like this. We'll have to widen it up.”

He crooks his finger, and wriggles it around in the narrow entrance.

Guys: “Gah... Ow! ...Oww!”

He forces open the hole by pushing in his fingers.

Durer: “Ooh, I like that voice.”

Durer laughs a throaty laugh.

Guys: “Hrrgh!”

Suddenly, I feel something warm touching me. As I look around, I see Durer has extended his tongue and is licking my ass.

Guys: “Uhh... Uhnn...”

I shiver at the sticky sensation. It's as if a slug is crawling over my ass. It makes me feel sick.

Guys: “Argh... Wha...!?”

Suddenly, Durer's fingers pull out, and something warm enters instead. I look around, and see that Durer is now using his fingers to part my cheeks, and using his tongue on my asshole. I can't believe this. For a moment, I even forget about the pain.

Durer: “This will make the search a little easier. Right, kid?”

His soft tongue is violating me with a strength I wouldn't have expected. It's making a dirty noise as he moves it around.

Durer: “Such a dirty sound.”

Durer smiles wickedly, and I feel his breath on my skin.

Guys: “...Murgh......”

For a moment, a strange sensation flows up my spine. It's as if I'm getting used to the feeling.

Guys: “...Haghh......”

His fingers come in again. Slowly, ever so slowly they slide inside. I cringe with the pain and the pressure.

Guys: “...Stop it... It hurts......”

I bite down to keep down the scream. However, a whimper still escapes from between the gaps.

Durer: “Hurts, does it?”

Guys: “...Ahhg......!”

His fingers are inside all the way. He starts twisting them around. I stiffen for fear that he might damage my internal organs. Then he thrusts again. I press my lips together with the agony.

Guys: “Ow...! No......!!”

He keeps inserting and withdrawing his fingers. It hurts. It feels awful.

Guys: “Haghh.... Urgh...”

Durer: “You'll get used to this sooner or later.”

Guys: “...Uuu... Uuuu......”

Durer: “Or maybe you already have experience!?”

For a while, Durer's laugh booms through the room. The deafening sound rekindles my hatred.

Durer: “Why don't we test if you do have experience?”

He adds two more fingers, which is too much for the small space. The anguish is twice what it was before. My anger gives way for fear. I wonder if he's finally going all-out. My body is trembling with the unimaginable pain.

Guys: “P...... Please, stop... Have mercy!”

I beg for mercy, my voice a pitiful whine.

Durer: “Mercy? Your butt sure looks like it wants some more!”

In order to escape the torture, I've been twisting my ass around, so as to get away from Durer's fingers.

Guys: “...No... No... Please!”

Durer: “You damn whore! There! How do you like that!"

Guys: “Gahh... Harrg...... No...!”

Durer stretches my insides with his fingers. I start crying out. From the gaping hole, something warm starts flowing down my thigh. Right then, the clock on the wall strikes the hour.

Durer: “Damn!”

Behind me, Durer smacks his lips. He savagely pulls his fingers away. With the motion, a strand of the warm stuff comes out.

Durer: “Well, it's okay. We have plenty of time. We can take it slow.”

As Durer moves away, I get dizzy. When the strand breaks, I collapse onto the floor.

Durer: “Hey, you're not relieved, are you!?”

I can hear Durer's voice coming from far away. I look up at him through a haze.

Durer: “Your face says you want more. But it'll have to wait until next time.”

Guys: “......Next time......”

I don't understand the meaning of those last words.

Durer: “Get your clothes back on. There are rules here, and tardiness is strictly forbidden. The roll-call is starting. You stand in line with the others. I'll introduce you.”

Somehow, it seems to be over. I sluggishly get up and put my trousers back on. It seems Durer made a tear in my body with his violent treatment. A thread of blood is trickling down my leg.

Durer: “Don't laze about!”

I hear the irritation in Durer's voice, so I hurry and follow him, though even walking hurts.

Durer: “You get up at 6 o'clock, at the chime of the bell. You get 5 minutes to dress, and then it's roll-call. Then you go to the cafeteria, and you have 20 minutes to eat. Then you go to work until noon. At the noon bell, it's roll-call again. You get a 30-minute lunch break, and then you work until evening. After the evening roll-call, you get 30 minutes for dinner. You can take a shower every other day. You have 30 minutes for that after dinner. On days when you don't take a shower, you do the laundry. From then until you go to sleep, you're in your own time. You should return to your cell before the final roll-call. Lights out at 10 o'clock.”

Durer is giving me a crash course as we walk down the narrow corridor.

Durer: “Don't think too much. Just set your life by the bell. As for the rest, learn from your peers. You'll be living here for a long time. You'll forget discomfort soon enough.”

Durer smirks as he says that.

Durer: “Well, you can always make friends with the others. You break the rules, you end up in the penal cell. Now, meet your peers.”

Durer opens a heavy-set door. Many men are lined up in a garden that is lit by a small hole in the ceiling that lets in the summer sunlight. Impudent faces. Defeated faces. People who look soulless. Men who seem to be made from stone. Even people younger than I am. They've been working all day, and they all look tired. They stink, too.

Guard B: “No abnormalities, sir!”

When Durer enters, a busy-looking guard comes up to him.

Durer: “Good. We have a new one today.”

This gets a few curious glances.

Durer: “This guy will be your new mate from today on.”

Durer gives me a push in the back, making me take a few steps forward. I don't know what to say, so I just greet them.

Guys: “P, pleased to meet you.”

Prisoner A: “Aw, isn't that just a cute thing to say? I could eat you!”

Prisoner B: “Hey boy! Watch your back!”

Prisoner C: “If you get lonely, your pal here will comfort you! Anytime!”

Guard B: ”Watch your mouths! Are you looking for punishment!?”

Durer: “Number 139 is free, if I recall correctly. Right, you're number 139. That's all. Time for dinner.”

The guards have to shout to quell the prisoner's jeering. Once they settle down, Durer ends the roll-call.

Prisoners: “Food, food!”

Durer ignores them, and leaves by the door through which we entered. The prisoners start moving. The guards drive them on with their batons, like herders drive sheep. I am left behind, on my own.

???: “Come on. You'll get fed.”

Suddenly, someone takes my arm.

Guys: “Whoa!?”

I turn my head in bewilderment. Before me stands a young man with piercings in his ears. Judging by his voice, he's pretty young. He must be about my age. However, he's huge. Indeed, he's impressive. I feel like I'm in danger.

???: “It's dinner time.”

Behind him, a boy with large eyes smiles faintly at me. He looks like the type with a weak spirit, who is bullied a lot. He's probably the first guy's ''woman''. That puts me at ease. If he has a ''woman'' with him, then being around him might be safe.

Guys: “Thanks. But I don't know where to go.”

???: “Follow me.”

He looks me up and down as he talks to me.

Guys: “I'm Guys. Please teach me about this place.”

Informal though it is, there's definitely a ranking here. If you mess with those above you, or don't treat them properly, you're in trouble.

Jose: “I'm Jose.”

As if he has no further interest in me, Jose walks briskly away. When we reach the cafeteria, I separate from the two men. But it seems I can't find a seat. The others have already filled them all.

Guys: “Let's see, what should I do?”

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Go over to Jose

Don't go over to Jose

____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

What should I do? You make the decision now! The time limit is Sunday evening! The next part will be posted on Monday evening!